


What I Like About You Baby

by Doodsxd



Series: That's So Us [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Awkwardness, BAMF Joyce Byers, F/M, Fantasizing, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Good Parent Jim "Chief" Hopper, Good Parent Joyce Byers, Implied Sexual Content, Jim "Chief" Hopper Being Jim "Chief" Hopper, Kissing, Light Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, No Plot/Plotless, Pining, Protective Jim "Chief" Hopper, Sexual Tension, Short & Sweet, Supportive Joyce Byers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodsxd/pseuds/Doodsxd
Summary: But he was old, weary and gruff, and not only she deserved better, but she had her own shit to deal with, for him to come up one day and drop the you’re the whole fucking world and I feel like the sun wouldn’t shine if you weren’t here, ever bomb on her head. It wasn’t fair. She was a single mother with two kids and a job that clearly didn’t pay enough.So he drank his beer, quieted his mind, went to bed early to wake up before the sun was up. He made El waffles and paid his bills and went to work, trying to enjoy what he already had and push back this aching longing for what he didn’t.He had his love, once upon a time. And now it was gone.End of story.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper
Series: That's So Us [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587430
Comments: 8
Kudos: 99





	What I Like About You Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is where I finish this series, I think...  
> Thanks for sticking with me, I really liked writing this.  
> Title, as usual, from Allie X's "That's So Us"  
> Non-beated, non revised, I'm sorry. ALso kinda plotless but I'm not sure there absolutely has to be some advanture or anything, right? I don't know, I like how soft this got.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

**What I like about you baby**

Ever since Joyce Byers had entered his life, she had been a beacon of light. 

At first, he still had his wife and daughter, but that didn’t mean Joyce didn’t  _ feel  _ good to be around, one of those cheery, nice people that smile and make your day a little better, the rain a little less wet. She just had that in her, wherever she went. 

And then… then he lost it all. It got really difficult to recognize, then, what was actually light or shadow. Everything just looked sort of… grey. By her side, though, the grey was lighter - reason why he didn’t hesitate before threatening that horrible husband of hers with more than just jail when he understood what was going on, why was little Jonathan calling the police on behalf of his mother. 

They went back way too many years for him not to  _ see _ her. The wonderful, insecure, messy, sweet,  _ alive _ person that she was. 

But he was old, weary and gruff, and not only she deserved better, but she had her own shit to deal with, for him to come up one day and drop the  _ you’re the whole fucking world and I feel like the sun wouldn’t shine if you weren’t here, ever _ bomb on her head. It wasn’t fair. She was a single mother with two kids and a job that clearly didn’t pay enough. 

So he drank his beer, quieted his mind, went to bed early to wake up before the sun was up. He made El waffles and paid his bills and went to work, trying to enjoy what he already had and push back this aching longing for what he didn’t. 

He had his love, once upon a time. And now it was gone. 

End of story. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

He wasn’t about to tell his daughter that what she was suggesting was a whole new level of torture, because she wouldn’t understand it. 

To El, life was simple, good and bad, nice and rude, black and white. Or, kind of. She was learning, still, but adulthood was thankfully a long way ahead still, so there were still some complexities that the world didn’t grasp. Especially when it came to relationships.

Which was probably why she was suggesting what she was suggesting in the first place. 

“Flo is retiring,” El insisted for the millionth time. “You need a new assistant.”

“No, I don’t.” Jim sighed, looking at the girl. “And if I do, I’ll interview people.” 

“But Joyce needs the money!” El protested. “She can do it!”

“I know she can, kiddo,” He sighed. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Why?” And that was it. She was pouting, and he was doomed. That easy.

His sigh was deep and weary, like his bones. “You give her the call, though. If she wants to, she can start on Monday.” 

The girl squealed with joy and Jim once more asked himself what was he doing with his life, because now? Now he had to see and interact with Joyce every day. A fish in a tank with ocean view. Just close enough to be out of reach. 

Fucking hell. 

__________________________________________________________________________

Monday morning he was still gruff, still barely awake, bleary-eyed entering the station. A warm cup was pressed into his palm and he took a sip before thinking, but-

-it wasn’t Flo’s coffee. 

It tasted like frotted milk, hazelnut syrup. It tasted like  _ perfection _ , a perfect thing that he had  _ never _ admitted to  _ anyone _ that he liked, not to dent his perfect reputation, his  _ angry _ ,  _ dangerous- _

She looked  _ gorgeous _ . He knew he was gawking, but he couldn’t stop looking. It was too early for that much self control. 

“Morning, Chief,” Phil was laughing, the moron, but it didn’t  _ matter _ , because they were  _ all _ seeing this, this  _ woman _ that Joyce Byers suddenly became, dressed to the nines with hosiery, a pencil skirt and a white office shirt, to work for him. Her hair in a banana bun, and she was wearing  _ makeup _ of all things, and Jim wanted to die, he wanted to kneel at her feet, get that hair messing up his pillow-

“I hope it’s OK,” Joyce smiled shyly at him. “I got your coffee and a donut, organized some files according to Flo’s system-” 

“She did a day’s worth of work in two hours, Chief,” Calvin stood by Phil’s side. “And looked  _ damn good _ while doing it, too-”

“Out, you two, go do some  _ work _ ,” He threw his worst, most dangerous look their way, and while they were laughing, they  _ went _ . “And you,” He looked at Joyce, feeling his blood boil in more ways than one. “My office.” 

Her face was struck by fear and uncertainty at that phrase, but he couldn’t bring himself to fix it, not right now. He had to keep some distance, he had to have space around him to breathe something that wasn’t the scent of her shampoo. 

So he shut the blinds to his office and let Joyce in, pulling a chair for her, because his dad was an asshole but he wasn’t raised in a barn, no. 

Once she was in he shut the door behind her and circled the table to reach his seat. 

She was there, sitting, looking sheepish, “Look, Jim, I’m sorry, I-” 

“Joyce,” He stopped her, raising his hand. “Don’t worry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“...I didn’t?” She looked confused. “Then why-?”

“Callahan and Powell get on my nerves, that’s all.” He shifted his cup of coffee on the table, looking at it. Considering. “How did you know?” 

“What?” She frowned, but then followed his eyes to the cup. “Oh. That. I asked El.” Joyce shrugged. “I wanted to make a good impression.”

_ She had no idea _ . “...Thank you.” He fiddled with the cup before entwining his fingers. “Honestly, you already did great. I’m just… worried.”

“About what?” She was still frowning. 

“Well… first, we aren’t exactly  _ formal _ here, so… no need for the whole…”  _ Madness, insanity, evil plot _ \- “ _ Attire _ .” 

“Oh, OK.” She shifted on her seat, looking down her poliester-clad thighs. “To be honest, I was kinda liking this.” 

“Well, you look… you look great.” He was sweating, he knew he was sweating. “I mean, you look really great,”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, bright and warm as the first day of summer. 

“But-” He added, trying to swallow around the uneasiness. “I’m afraid the guys… and the perps, I mean, the people we arrest… aren’t going to be  _ respectful _ of…”

“Oh.  _ Oh _ .” She understood, looking serious, suddenly. “I don’t want to cause any trouble. I’ll come less formal tomorrow.” Joyce promised solemnly. 

“Thanks.” He leaned back on his chair, weight lifting from his shoulders. “And with that you mean…”

“Less skin, I got it, Jim.” But she was smiling. “Guess I just wanted to look professional. Impress the boss, you know?” 

He knew she was being playful, as  _ friends _ , but he was gonna pop a boner right there like a damn teenager. “Outta here, you. And any of ‘em say anything to you, you send them to me. Hear me?” 

“Ay ay, captain!” She offered him, standing up. “Anything else, Hop?” 

“Just…” Hopper looked at those autumn hot chocolate eyes, feeling everything inside himself soften until it turned to goo. “Welcome.”

Her smile could re-ignite the sun. 

He was so,  _ so _ screwed. 

________________________________________________________________________

“Alright, so,” She approached him the next morning, and the social pants weren’t all that better from the skirt the day before. He had to get her a police uniform, for fuck’s sake. “You had two calls from Chicago about a fugitive who came Hawkin’s direction and vanished; a couple of teenage fights, a lawn dispute and a stolen hose.” She listed after pushing the sweet coffee into his hand. 

“‘lright.” He was still rubbing sleep from his eyes. 

“El also called.”

_ That _ brought him back from slumber. “What?” 

“Nothing major or I would have gotten the guys to radio you.” She assured him calmly. “It was… well, you have the right to know, you’ll be buying her things, so.” 

Joyce sat in front of him and his stomach dropped. 

Oh, boy. 

“She’s…?” He started, rubbing his forehead. 

“She’s gotten her period, yes. Luckily, Max had already explained to her what it is and how to deal with it.” Joyce looked sheepish. “She just thought she should inform you.” 

Despite everything, it was… sweet. The girl had no mother, of course she would share it with him. 

“Should I… do something?” He asked Joyce, and the boss pretense fell to ground right there. “I mean… I mean, I know it’s hard, and it’s not something people celebrate or anything, but it’s…”

“A landmark.” She was smiling her honeyed smile. “You do whatever you want, Hop. She’s an unusual girl and you’re an unusual dad. I am sure that if it comes from the heart, she’ll appreciate it.” 

“Alright.” He thought about making a joke with a red velvet cake. El would surely appreciate it, if PMS wasn’t eating her alive. “Alright. Thank you, Joyce.” 

“You’re a good father, Jim.” She touched his shoulder and, as always, he felt like everything would be alright. “Stop doubting yourself.”

Then she left, and he felt like a superhero. Like the goddamn universe was aligned at his side, and he could do no wrong. 

She was his secretary, but he’d lay the whole fucking world at her feet, if only she’d let him. 

_________________________________________________________________________

Of all people, it was Steve Harrington who had been arrested. 

He left El by the Mayfield’s, getting Steve’s boyfriend there - he had a feeling the boys would need each other at some point that night - and drove to the station. 

First he had thought Harrington was probably in a fight. He was young and reckless, as most teenagers somehow were, and was dating a boy, so. It was probable. 

Boy, how was he wrong. Apparently, Harrington-father called the cops on his son for trying to leave the house - after being kicked out - with the car he got as a gift for his fifteenth birthday. Like he was  _ stealing, _ or somethin’. 

In the end he had been right. Bringing Billy along made things much easier. 

And he only had one kid with him, while both Joyce and Mrs. Mayfield had two already, so… 

“You’re staying with me, kid.” He announced to Steve. “And we can pull your acceptance test for the academy a little earlier.” 

“Hop, I can’t-” Steve started speaking, but his face was red and puffy like he had been struggling not to cry, and fuck it all. He had the money, he had the means, and they all went through  _ enough _ already. Couldn’t trouble just  _ end _ ?

“El likes you, and I  _ know _ you’ll pull your weight as much as you can. Soon enough you and Hargrove here will be buying another car and moving in together, I’m sure,” their faces reddened, but Billy squeezed Steve’s hand, so he wasn’t far off the truth, “And your dad pulled a huge asshole move right now, but there’s nothing I can do about it beyond letting you go.” 

“Why did he do it, sweetie?” Joyce’s hand cupped Steve’s face sweetly. Apparently, she clearly didn’t know. 

“‘Cause of me.” Billy asked, face guilt-ridden. 

“No. Cause he’s an asshole.” Hopper corrected him sternly. Those boys  _ really  _ needed male figures who weren’t complete assholes in their lives. “You two aren’t hurting anybody.” 

“Hurting his reputation.” Steve answered, rubbing his eyes. 

“Any dad who cares more about his reputation than his kid’s happiness should’ve never had kids in the first place.” Was his answer. 

With a nod to them, he turned to his office to finish off the kid’s release paperwork - Harrington was  _ not  _ sleeping in a jail cell for trying to take his car with him when he was kicked out of the house, thank you very much - when Joyce entered the room and shut the door behind her. 

“I’m just gonna finish off his papers, you can go hom-” He hadn’t been looking before, while she was walking to him, but he definitely was looking now that she had straddled him on his chair. “Wha-?”

He watched it in slow motion, in his head; the way her lips, shining underneath the station’s lights, came closer and closer to his, her eyes set on his face, hair a little mussed from working all day. His heart was already halfway into an attack when she stopped, breath hovering over his mouth, smelling of toothpaste and cigarette, and he never wanted something so much. 

But he needn’t wait long: her lips brushed his, tentative at first, but then taking on the hunger she showed in her eyes and licking his lips open, parting her way into his mouth like she wanted to take his soul through the touch of her tongue. He’d give her anything. 

The kiss went on up until something crashed outside, startling both of them. She immediately slid out of his lap, put herself together and walked out as if nothing had ever happened. 

And he? He couldn’t move. Hopper was sure he’d die right there at that chair, because he was never going to be able to stand up straight ever again. 

____________________________________________________________________

“Your bed’s made and Hargrove is allowed here on the condition that you both clean up whatever mess you make, alright?” He asked. He just  _ knew _ none of them would be bad for El, or expose to anything untowards. They were good boys, after all. 

Harrington was still sniffing. “Thanks, Hop.” 

“Don’t sweat it, kid.” He put a big hand on his shoulder. “El’s ecstatic. She loves company.” 

Steve still looked down. “I’ll pay you back somehow, I swear.”

“Kid, you already paid me twenty times over with how often you drove those kids here and there without me having to be bothered. Think of this as me paying you back.” 

Harrington didn’t make a fuss about anything else, so Hop just washed up and went to sleep. But when he woke up, El was curled up against him on the couch, and, well. 

He was just glad that when he knocked out, she’d have family on her side. 

____________________________________________________________________________

On the following day Hargrove was there with Max, and, honestly, fuck it. 

He dressed up and went to work. 

Joyce wasn’t there. 

________________________________________________________________________

She wasn’t there for a week. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Hopper had just let Harrington take his truck so they’d hang out with Billy and Max when he heard a car parking in front of his house. 

He didn’t look up from his magazine when the door opened. “Forgot your coat?” 

“I don’t think so, Jim.” 

He dropped the magazine. 

“I thought you were sick.” 

“I was.” She took off over overcoat, displaying a cotton navy dress over black sheer hosiery. He had never seen either, and wasn’t entirely sure why he was seeing it at that moment and time. Maybe hallucination? “I was sick with doubt.” Joyce turned to him. “Now I’m not anymore.” 

“Joyce, what the hell are you talking about-?” The words died in his throat as she once again straddled his lap on the armchair he was sitting, cutting every coherent line of thought by the root right inside his mind. The skirt of her dress was driven up by the movement and  _ that _ didn’t help either. 

“Am I dreaming?” He knew his voice was small, but he couldn’t help it, because what else was there? She was this pillar of strength and optimism and joy and he was a defeatist, middle-age, chain-smoker cop who was as of now fostering two amazing strays, and he had no idea, still, how did he get so lucky to have a second chance at this after losing everything.

But her weight was solid and soft over his thighs and as many dreams as he had about her, none of them felt like this. In all of them he was less of a passive bystander, at least. 

She looked like someone who was counting the drops of her courage, which she was using to be there, with him. 

“I want you, Jim.” She said simply, hand shyly placing her hair behind her ear. 

“I just,” Her voice came like a punch, and he tentatively placed his hands on her waist, welcoming her there, something he hadn’t done before and probably should’ve, because now she looked like she was regretting everything and he certainly didn’t want that to happen. 

“You what?” He asked, wondering if his voice sounded as broken as hers. 

“I-” He could  _ see _ the emotions in her eyes, fear, regret, resolution, courage, decision, “What you did that day? What you said to Steven?” 

“Yeah?” 

“It was  _ so hot _ .” Her hands came to the nape of his neck and every hair there stood to attention. “Hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do, and I’ve seen you take down russian agents with a handgun and a mean eye.” 

_ Fuck _ . Fuck, fuck, fuck… “You have a daddy kink, Mrs. Byers?” He asked, aiming for a joke to try to lighten the mood. 

“I have a kink for kindness, you asshole.” She hit his arm and everything was right in the world. “I think Eleven has been sending dreams about you my way.”

His brain blinked. “What?” 

“She means well, don’t punish her,” Joyce blushed. “I knew it because the dreams I  _ usually _ have are less… PG-13.” She explained, caressing his beard softly with the tips of her nails. They were longer now, sign that she felt safer, more confident, anxiety bleeding out of her with every day that passed without anything happening. “So I knew it wasn’t  _ my _ mind producing them.” 

“You…” It was a lot. “You  _ dream _ about  _ me? _ ”

“For a while now,” She admitted. “But I thought, well, you were still in mourning, or at least you look like it, and now you have El and Steve to care for, and what would you want with a divorced mother of two-” 

“I want you more than anything in my life.” He interrupted her, making her flush again.

This time her pupils grew, double and over, and it was all he needed to put both his arms around her and kissing her deeply, pulling her towards him to never,  _ ever _ let go. 

________________________________________________________________________

When El and Steve came home that night, the door to his room was shut.

In the morning, El made a little dance and ran to the phone and Steve dropped his mug of coffee upon seeing Joyce there, wearing a pair of sweats and one of Jim’s shirts. 

And while they made breakfast, he wondered if it could be that simple. If they could just decide that they wanted each other and just  _ be _ . If, after all that insanity in their lives, they could still live another love, another fairytale. 

“Made you coffee,” She brought him out of his thoughts by pushing the mug of sweet coffee into his hands and kissing his forehead, and a whiff of the scent of her shampoo, her warmth, it all made his heart clench in longing and delight, and yes. Yes it could. 

Because she was a ray of sunshine, and she decided to shine upon him, and, honestly, who the hell was he to deny it? 

He took a sip and smiled. 

It tasted like happiness. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!  
> See yall next time :)


End file.
